A Good Day
by hazelmom
Summary: This is an old story from a ficathon, but I am closing my livejournal account, and thought I would share it.  Gris and Sara get stranded in the desert one very hot day.


**A Good Day**

A/N: Haven't written for this fandom in a year. I'm not sure I have found their voices again, but I appreciated the challenge. The rating for this is general, not spicy at all.

Pairing: Sara/Grissom

Prompt: Iced Tea

By Sheila Moriarty

Steam hissed from the dying engine, and Sara cursed to find grease marks imprinted on her tank top. It wasn't hot. That descriptor did no justice to the excruciating temperature pounding her body. The last she heard, it was 110 degrees in the shade; certainly not a day to be leaning under the hood of an overheated engine. Sweat poured down her face, and she felt the faint beginnings of a dehydration headache. She shook her head and stepped away from the engine. There was no quick fix to this, and she couldn't imagine what she thought she was going to do with a busted radiator.

His irritated tone sounded behind her, scolding someone on the other end of his cell. She pulled the front of her tank out, rubbed the moisture and grease off her face, and then turned to watch him. He was pacing back and forth across the rugged trail that passed as a dirt road, his voice approaching a pitch that reminded her nothing of the cool, detached scientist he played for the rest of the world. "…I have told you three times that the GPS for vehicle is functioning. However, it only gives us direction. This area is not properly marked with road names, and so it has no reference to use in giving location."

He stopped in his tracks, scratching at the hair that peeked out of the back of his straw hat. He scrunched up his face in that scowl he generally saved for pedophiles and wife beaters, and spoke into the phone again. "Of course, I want to help you find us…it's just that we only have direction as a reference. The last marked road was county road 37, and we left it approximately 14 miles after we exited off highway 19. We have driven…I don't know…maybe 3-4 miles since we left 37." He paused and looked for Sara. "That sounds about right?"

She stifled an urge to glare her response. Not realizing she was going to be stranded in the desert at the height of a Southwest summer, she had taken no time to track the miles. "I think it was more like 7-8 miles actually." She had no idea if this was the truth, but it felt appropriate to heighten the drama of this ridiculous situation. He furrowed his brows at her for a moment, and then returned to the phone. "It might be as far as 5 miles from 37….I realize that there are many unmarked roads branching off of 37, but this is no joke. We need someone out here now; without shade, it's probably close to 120 degrees out here…" He squeezed his eyes shut at the response and waited a moment as if to collect himself. "Okay, we'll head for 37. That's the best point of reference. It's quite a hike though, and so it might make sense to have your people…I realize your resources are limited…Yes, I do know survival protocol under these circumstances." His scowl had returned. "It's best not to waste the battery on the phone. I'll call you when we get closer to 37." He slapped the phone shut and stared at the ground for a moment before turning in her direction.

She stood, hands on her hips, squinting under the glare of the sun. "This is not a good day for a hike."

He looked away and she bit her lip; a flippant attitude was, at best, a luxury in a situation like this. She cleared her throat and tried again, "Um, Gris, I think I'll pull together a bag of whatever we might need: water, flashlight, flares." He nodded in her direction, and then turned to look down the road ahead of them. She slid out of the truck a few minutes later with a small knapsack hanging off her shoulder. He didn't turn to look at her until she was standing beside him. "We go slow, converse energy. Any shade we find, we stop and take advantage."

She nodded, digging in the sack. "We have a liter of water between us. I was the last one to drink so why don't you hydrate before we go."

He shook his head. "I'm fine. Let's go."

He started off, but turned to find her still standing with the liter bottle in her hands. She handed it to him. "Don't be a hero, Grissom."

He took it from her and drank briefly. Then he leveled a steely look at her. "I'm fine, Sara. I'm 50 years old but I'm not an invalid. Besides, women dehydrate faster than men do"

"I wasn't trying to say—"

"Do you want to sit here all afternoon talking about this? If we're going to argue, let's at least move toward the county road while we're doing it."

She shoved the bottle back into the knapsack and walked away from him. "We conserve energy better if we don't talk at all."

He sighed and started after her.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

There was a light wind, and Sara would have counted it as relief but for the fact that it kicked up bits of sand and dirt. She tried to stifle the hard raspy coughs that started to rack her body. She could tell he was watching her, and she tried not to look, but out of the corner of her eye she could see the brim of his hat tilt in her direction every couple of minutes. For her part, she quickened the pace whenever he did it, trying to discourage any sort of conversation. She tried to stay focused on being picked up and transported to her air-conditioned apartment where she would take a cold shower and then walk around the apartment obscenely naked.

He took a deep breath beside her and she sighed; round two was coming. He put a hand on her shoulder and slowed her. "Sara, I want to apologize. This is my fault. You told me this morning that it was too hot to go to the desert and I should've listened. I was just too wrapped up in the idea of observing the Western Desert Beetle under circumstances of extreme heat. Knauss claims that they completely stop breeding under these conditions and I--"

Her mouth set in a line, she turned to him. "Don't worry about it. It happens."

"But I should be held accountable."

She wrinkled her brow. "What does that mean? Do you want me to press charges?"

"I should own up to my mistakes. Make them right."

She stopped on the dusty road. "Grissom, it's okay."

"But I should—"

She put up a hand. "The apology was fine; the penance is unnecessary. I mean, what the hell do you expect out of me when I screw up?"

He cocked his head. "I don't…I mean, I don't think I—"

She put a hand on his arm and for a moment her face softened. "Okay, how 'bout this? Let's say we go with the Grissom approach to apologies and decide that you owe me something fierce. I think you know how you can make it up to me: chocolate."

He raised an eyebrow and she smiled. "Not just any chocolate, Grissom. I am talking good chocolate, chocolate with European ancestry. I want the finest chocolate in Las Vegas. And I don't want one piece. I want more than I can hold in both hands. Understand? And I do not plan to share. How's that? Feeling better?" Before he could answer, she started on another coughing fit.

He patted her on the back as she bent over in spasm. "You okay?"

She shrugged him off. "Just breathed in some dust is all."

"Sure?"

She managed another grin. "Yeah." She looked up and shaded her eyes with her hand. "Do you think we've gone two miles yet?"

He shook his head, still frowning at her. Then without a word, he pulled his hat off and settled it on her head. Instinct told her to resist, but there was something about it; he wasn't asking, he was doing the only thing he could think to do and it left her with an odd feeling. He nodded at the knapsack and she pulled out the water.

"Both of us drink," he said, pushing it back at her for the first swallow.

She took it gratefully and threw her head back for a long swig. He followed suit but didn't give her back the bottle. He motioned for the knapsack, and when she handed it over, he stuffed the water inside and strapped it to his back. She started to protest but he was already walking again.

For the next half hour, they walked side by side in silence. The wind had died down and the heat punished exposed flesh. Sara got a look at Grissom's watch and noted that it was only 2:45 in the afternoon. It felt like they had been walking for four hours when the truth was that they had probably only been moving for a little less than 2 hours. She was a little surprised to find that he more than kept up with her. In fact, his breathing was much less shallow than hers was. A familiar tightness was spreading across her chest, and it took all her concentration to keep her breath steady. Her coughing was beginning to sound more like a dry bark: not a good sign. She walked with her head down, the straw hat shielding her face from dust and sand. She knew he was watching her, and so she stayed as casual as her body allowed.

The sun beat hard on both of them, draining them of energy. She knew they were going uphill now, but couldn't remember how close that was to the county road. She stumbled on a rock, and Grissom coolly slipped his arm through hers and pulled her back up. Barely missing a step, they continued, his arm firmly linked with hers. A faint whistle began sounding in her breath soon after that. He slowed them both to a stop and pulled the water out of the knapsack, handing it to her. "I didn't know you had asthma."

She shrugged. "I don't…I mean, I don't suffer from asthma symptoms…often. Used to when I was a kid, but it's been much better since I moved to a desert climate. Now I only have trouble if I exercise in the heat."

"I assume you are not carrying an inhaler."

"Like I said, Grissom, I only have trouble when I exercise or if I breathe in irritants. My plan today was merely to watch you from the air conditioned comfort of the Denali. There was no need to bring one."

He gently pulled her chin up so she was looking in his eyes. "Well, Sara, you never really need it 'til you need it."

"Very pithy, Grissom."

He raised an eyebrow. "I trust this incident will pave the way toward better disease management habits."

Another barrage of coughing hit her and she doubled over. He waited until she finished and then urged her to drink. Sara couldn't help noticing that there was less than a cup of water left in the bottle, and that he had stopped taking his turn a few sips back.

"I'm going to find a place for us to sit." Grissom started off to survey the area.

"We should keep going."

Grissom turned to look at her, shielding his eyes from the sun. "You're not going to last another mile with that wheezing."

The heat of embarrassment competed for space on her already flushed face. She dropped into a crouch waiting for him to return, a long finger lazily drawing pictures in the hot gravel. Powerless was not something she did well. It was all she could do to keep from defying all of his efforts. It didn't really matter if he was right or wrong. She needed control. She needed to be part of any and all decisions regarding her life; family history had taught her that. The only thing that held her back was the genuine worry in his eyes; the intensity of it unsettling to her. All of this and the tension in her body were doing nothing for the dry asthmatic cough that erupted every few seconds. She knew that if she slowed her breathing and stayed calm, she would be able to recover without the aid of an inhaler so she closed her eyes, and concentrated; imagining a cool spot, conjuring the trickle of a waterfall and the sounds of birds, and doing the best to ignore the relentless heat beating on the back of her neck.

She had managed to secret herself in this imagery for more than a few minutes before she heard Grissom trot up to her. She looked up and noted what the afternoon had done to him. His face was red and deeply burned, his hair yellow from the sand nestled among his curls, and his clothes thick with dust and sand. She wondered what sort of spectacle she herself presented.

"Good news! There's an overhang atop of this hill, it looks out to the east. We can sit there away from the sun. It's high enough so we can see maybe 2-3 miles. I talked to Park Rescue, and we're going to stay there and wait. Can't see the roads but if we see a dust trail, we can figure on a car, and call them to let them know that they're closing in."

She squinted a grin at him. "Who knew you were such a clever guy?"

"You sound better."

"I've calmed my breathing, did a visualization exercise; probably won't even need an inhaler now. You sure you don't want to keep walking?"

He shook his head. "No, the sun is sapping whatever energy we have left. We need some cover."

She nodded and took his proffered hand, allowing him to pull her to her feet. It took the two of them about fifteen minutes to hike to the top of the hill, and the exertion brought her close to another attack so she heeded his warnings and stopped periodically to rest. At the top, Grissom went ahead with a long stick to patrol for snakes. She had to admit that, asthma or no asthma, running off snakes was not something she ever saw herself doing. He came back a few minutes later, and she resisted the urge to ask whether or not he'd found any.

The spot he'd chosen had a long piece of slate jutting out from the rock at an angle. There was more than enough room for the both of them to sit comfortably underneath it. The cool of shade probably only dropped the temperature 10 – 15 degrees, but the change for her was immediate, sending a shiver down her spine. Grissom climbed in after her and settled himself so that he'd have a good view of the landscape. He swung the knapsack off his shoulder and pulled out what was left of the water and turned to her. She shook her head. "I'm okay right now. Let's save it."

He searched her eyes for a moment, then nodded, nestling the bottle into the sack again. He clasped his hands together around his knees and looked out over the barren landscape. She leaned into him a little so she could share the view. She knew her eyes were a damn site better than his, and figured her contribution could be finding the first cloud from a car.

Not looking at her, he took a deep sigh and spoke, "You and I have been sharing a bed for 3 months now, Sara."

She stiffened next to him.

Despite this, he continued, "Neither of us is much good at talking about this. For me, it's because I want nothing to disrupt what we have. I don't have a lot of confidence in my relationship abilities. The same for you?"

She nodded.

"Good. I think that tells me that this is important for both of us." He smiled at her awkwardly and returned his gaze to the horizon.

She chewed on her lower lip for a moment before speaking, "What was going through your head that first morning when you invited me over for breakfast?"

"You want to know if I knew I was going to get lucky?" His eyes continued to search the landscape. "I didn't. I think we were both tired, and you had pulled an amazing save finding those fingerprints on the mantle, and I wanted to take you out, but the idea of sitting in my own kitchen drinking my own coffee kind of took over."

She chuckled. "That's your story, huh? I was sure you wanted to jump me."

He smirked. "Well, that's pretty much been a constant over the last six years. Not sure that morning would have been any different."

"I remember I was full of huevos rancheros, ready to go home and sleep the day away when you surprised me."

"I surprised myself. Didn't plan to ask you to stay, but I said it, and I remember feeling none of the embarrassment I imagined would follow such a slip."

She nudged him. "And then you just stood in the middle of the kitchen like a dork just looking at me. Guess I wasn't thinking much either; I don't remember deciding to kiss you. I must've just walked up to you and did it."

"We didn't get any sleep that day, did we?"

"Rolling around on your couch for hours like a couple of teen-agers afraid to go past first base." She grinned at the memory.

"Actually I thought it was nice; there was so much for both of us to discover about one another."

She slipped her arm under his and leaned into his shoulder, whispering into his ear. "It was one of the best days of my life."

His beard couldn't hide the lazy grin spreading across his face. Sunburn had rubbed her arms and neck raw, the dehydration headache was impossible to hide now, and her dry, raspy throat ached, but she felt cared about in that moment and she knew she would remember that above all else.

It was almost another two hours before she caught the trail of a vehicle out of the east. She signaled to Grissom and he grabbed the phone. He needed two points to plot the third, and soon he and the Park driver were negotiating their location. They watched the cloud turn and head in their direction. From that distance, it would probably take him twenty minutes to get there. Grissom turned to her. "We should get back before dark. I'm not worried about the Denali. I'll have the Park tow it tomorrow morning."

She nodded.

His eyes didn't leave hers. "I suppose you want to go home, take a shower, sleep in your own bed."

"Ever heard of sun tea?"

He thought for a moment. "I think my mother used to make it. You put tea bags in a large glass pitcher of water and leave it in the sun. It's a slow brew. I remember it being very smooth."

"I have a pitcher sitting on my deck right now that I've been thinking about. When I get home, I want to bring it in, and drop couple of trays of ice cubes in. I'm thinking of adding a little honey, and I have some mint leaves in the refrigerator. I'm going to let the mint steep in it while I shower. Then I'm going to put on my thinnest long t-shirt, bring the tea into the living room, drop into the couch, prop my feet up on the table and watch whatever is on American Movie Classics."

"Sounds perfect." She thought she could detect just the hint of disappointment in his voice.

"Then I'm going to lean over and thank you for coming to my house and sharing my shower with me." She breathed into his neck. "We'll be so tired that we'll never last through the movie, but you'll shake me sometime late in the night while the TV is still on and I'm asleep on your shoulder, and steer me toward the bedroom. I'll pull off my t-shirt and…"

He turned and put a finger to her lips. "We'll let the rest be a surprise."

The cloud morphed into a natural resources truck and Grissom scrambled out from under the hang and started waving his arms. Sara didn't follow immediately. She pulled her knees up to her chest, and attempted to trap the feeling of contentment in her; an alien emotion for her, she wanted to hold on to it as long as she could. Because today wouldn't go down in her memories as the day they got lost in the desert. No, today would be the day they talked to each other as if they were a 'we'. It wasn't much, but it's what happened, and it felt oddly comfortable. This didn't guarantee any sort of a smooth ride for them, a glance back at their history told her that, but she would celebrate it for what it was, and for today, she was going to feel good. She squeezed her knees to her chest one more time, feeling everything like a teen-age girl.

Then a dusty face with piercing blue eyes appeared from above the overhang, breaking her reverie. "You going to stay in there all day, Sara?'

The End


End file.
